


parents are tough

by frockbot



Series: Tricksters [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Parental Disapproval, Persona 4 References, Persona 5: The Royal, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post-Canon, and they will explain them, five years post-canon to be exact, ren in inaba, ren's parents aren't gonna be like, they just have their reasons to disapprove, totally gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25561561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frockbot/pseuds/frockbot
Summary: Ren goes to Inaba for three reasons: to see his boyfriend, who’s been stuck there working on a case; to celebrate graduating from college and becoming, as Yosuke puts it, a Real Adult; and to visit his parents, eventually. He should’ve known that all of these things would immediately collide in the worst possible ways. And if Akechi is an unstoppable force, Ren’s parents are definitely an immovable object.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Hanamura Yosuke/Narukami Yu
Series: Tricksters [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765963
Comments: 26
Kudos: 227





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[Okay, I’m not what I promised you I would become](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HaVNBEYVyw) _
> 
> _[I know, we’re not what I promised you we’d be by now](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HaVNBEYVyw) _

[CHATLOG. Ren to Akechi, 12:12PM, 2/6/XX]

 **Ren** Okay, we’re on our way.

 **Akechi** Finally.  
**Akechi** I’ll meet you on the platform.

It was a three-hour train ride from Tokyo to Inaba: plenty of time for a nice long nap, which Morgana took full advantage of. Ren intended to do the same, but discovered that he couldn’t relax. He fidgeted in his seat, went to the bathroom even though he didn’t have to, farted around on his phone, took out a book and stared blankly at the pages.

He was _done_. Finished. He’d completed his last exam the night before, and although he wouldn’t get his diploma for another six weeks, he was, as far as he was concerned, a college graduate. A degreed professional, with a job already lined up at a counseling office in Minato-ku. It was…wild. He wasn’t sure he believed it yet. He kept half-expecting to wake up and realize he’d never gone to school at all.

What really had him on edge, though—the thing keeping him from sitting still—was the fact that he was going to see Akechi for the first time in weeks. Akechi had been in Inaba helping Naoto Shirogane with a case. They’d been working together for a while, Akechi based in Tokyo and Naoto in Inaba and environs; this was the first time she’d asked him to assist her in the countryside, and of course he’d immediately gotten stuck there, wrapped up in something big and complex (but not dangerous, thankfully). It was fine. It was his job, and it was important, and Ren had been able to distract himself with his last stretch of classes, studying for finals, and job interviews.

Now, though, he had two months off before he officially entered the working world, and he intended to spend as much of them with his boyfriend as he could.

Akechi wasn’t the only person on the platform, but he was the only person that mattered. The sight of him lit a fuse in Ren’s chest, and its hissing ticked down the seconds as he picked up his suitcase, swung Morgana’s bag over his shoulder, and made his way with deliberate calm off the train. Akechi watched him approach, arms crossed, smiling faintly.

“Hello,” Akechi said, and the firecracker inside Ren’s ribs went off. He grasped the back of Akechi’s neck and kissed him. Akechi gripped his waist, dragged him forward, impossibly strong, impossibly warm even in the chill February air. Ren had expected to be excited, and he was; he’d expected to be happy, and he was; he had not expected the lump in his throat or the burn in his eyes. He buried his face in Akechi’s collar, taking comfort from the beat of his pulse against his lips.

“Hi, Akechi,” Morgana chirped.

“Hello, cat.” Akechi threaded his fingers into Ren’s hair, sighed against his ear. “I missed you.”

“You have no idea,” Ren managed.

Akechi pressed his nails briefly against Ren’s scalp, making his breath catch. Then he stepped back, picked up Ren’s suitcase, jerked his head. “Come on. I have a car.”

He did have a car, a sleek slate-grey sedan on loan from the police department. Ren let Morgana out of his bag so he could curl up in the backseat, and took the passenger side. “I don’t think I knew you could drive.”

“Of course I can,” Akechi replied, piloting them smoothly away from the curb. “How was the train?”

It was like he’d never left, and thank god for that. Ren hadn’t been lonely, exactly. He had Morgana; he had dozens of friends and confidants a phone call or text away; he had at least ten people in Tokyo he could seek out if he needed someone to talk to. (Or, more typically, if they did.) But there was lonely, and then there was…whatever he’d been without Akechi in their apartment. Incomplete. They’d lived together for a year and a half; Ren was used to seeing his toothbrush in the medicine cabinet, sitting across from him at the table, feeling his arm around his waist when he woke up in the middle of the night. They’d talked all the time, and texted even more, but it wasn’t the same as the physical reality of him, the way the light caught his skin and danced in his hair, the way his mouth moved when he talked.

His mouth…

When the conversation tapered off, smothered by the energy crackling between them, it wasn’t because they’d run out of things to say. They just didn’t have enough blood left in their brains to say it.

Akechi parked outside of Yu and Yosuke’s house and opened the back door for Morgana, who leapt delicately to the ground. Pointedly not looking at Ren, who was pointedly looking at him, Akechi retrieved Ren’s suitcase from the trunk and led the way to the front door. This he unlocked, and opened, and Ren and Morgana followed him inside.

“Are Yu and Yosuke home?” Ren asked.

“No,” Akechi said, hanging his keys beside the door. “Yu’s visiting Nanako. Yosuke usually works until about six.”

“So we’re alone for the moment.”

“ _I’m_ here,” Morgana yowled, and shook his head. “You guys are impossible. Are you gonna be gross down here, or somewhere decent?”

Akechi smirked at the cat. “It would be rude for us to make a mess of the house, I think.”

“Fine,” Morgana said. He trotted across the room, hopped onto the sofa, and settled down for a bath. “You two go do whatever you’ve gotta do to stop looking at each other like that.”

Smirk widening into a smile, Akechi turned on his heel. “Come on,” he said over his shoulder. “My room’s upstairs.”

***

“Hello!” Yu called, flicking on the entryway light. “We’re home.”

“Maybe they’re not here yet,” Yosuke said.

“Hi guys,” said a boyish voice, off to their left.

Yosuke yelped and jumped a foot in the air, nearly knocking over the coatrack. Morgana was sitting on the kitchen counter, eyes luminous in the semidarkness.

“Hi, Morgana,” Yu said, cool as you please.

“Christ,” Yosuke grumbled, carefully righting the coatrack. “Don’t scare us like that!”

“Us?” said Yu.

“Fine, _me_ , don’t scare _me_.”

Morgana snickered. “I’ve still got it.”

“Where’re Ren and Akechi?”

“Where do you think?” Morgana sighed, flicking his tail. “Upstairs, doing unspeakable things to each other. They’ve been gone for hours. And I’m _starving_.”

Yosuke made a face, but Yu smiled. “Aw. The first time apart can be hard.”

“It’s not their first time apart! There was—” Morgana paused. “Well…I guess this is the longest they’ve gone. Still!” He sprang from the counter and coiled around Yosuke’s ankles. “Didja bring me anything? Are you gonna cook? What’s for dinner?”

“We figured we’d go out,” Yosuke replied. “Ren’s done with classes, right? We gotta celebrate.”

“Sounds good to me.” Morgana flopped onto his side. “But you’ll have to carry me. I’m too weak to walk.”

“Ren carries you everywhere anyway.”

“I’m just skin and bones,” Morgana mewled, feebly waggling his paws. “Wasting away to dust.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” said Akechi.

He was coming downstairs, buttoning the cuffs on his shirt, Ren on his heels. They were both freshly showered and dressed; if not for Morgana, you’d never have guessed what they’d been doing. Unless you were Yu, who saw everything, and thought it was sweet, the baby gays in love. He didn’t kiss Yosuke’s cheek just then, because Yosuke would have been embarrassed, but he put the idea in his pocket for later.

“Hi Ren,” Yu said.

“Hey man!” Yosuke exclaimed, punching Ren lightly on the shoulder. “Congrats! You’re finished!”

“I know,” Ren said, twiddling a lock of his hair. “It’s weird.”

“Gotta be a relief, though, right? You’re a new man! A real adult! And you’ve got a job waiting for you and everything, yeah?”

“Only part-time, but yes. It’s a great organization.”

“I’m dyyyying,” Morgana announced.

“What a shame,” Akechi drawled, nudging Morgana’s belly with his toe. The cat sprang to his feet, bristling.

“Don’t do that!”

“We want to take you out to celebrate,” Yosuke said. “There’s this Chinese place, Aiya—it’s really good. You up for it?”

Ren brightened. “Sure. Sounds great.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Morgana demanded. “Let’s go!”

***

They were passing through the South Shopping District when it happened.

“—serious, you should see these things,” Yosuke was saying. “They’re like, this big. And this guy—” He jerked his thumb at Yu—“eats ‘em all the time! I don’t know where he puts it all!”

“It’s just like the Big Bang Burger Challenge!” Morgana said, popping out of Ren’s bag to rest his paws on his shoulder. “The biggest one is almost as tall as he is! But he still—”

As the group reached the Shiroku Shop, its door swung open and an older couple, a man and a woman, stepped out onto the sidewalk. He was tall and lean and weathered by age, with silver strands running through his mop of fluffy black hair and wrinkles at the edges of his bold brown eyes. She was a bit shorter, but still generally tall, her head level with the man’s shoulder; her face was fine and angular, and she wore her gray hair in a long braid.

They only narrowly avoided a collision. Yu threw out his arm to stop Yosuke, and the woman recoiled in alarm, blinking at them through enormous gray eyes. The man caught her shoulder, tensing as if to pull her behind him.

Ren straightened up. “Oh.”

“Whoa, sorry,” Yosuke said, smiling. “Traffic jam!”

“Please excuse us,” said Yu.

The woman’s face went carefully blank. The man frowned, offered the woman his arm, and they glided away. Ren turned to watch them go, and so did Akechi, looking thunderous.

“Huh,” Yosuke said. “Chilly reception.”

“Everything okay?” Yu asked, glancing from Akechi to Ren and back.

Akechi rounded on Ren, folded his arms expectantly. Ren didn’t react. He was still staring after the couple, completely still, fists clenched at his sides.

“Oh, yeah,” Yosuke said. “I always forget—you grew up here, right? D’you know them, or something?”

Morgana butted his head gently against Ren’s. This seemed to wake him up: his shoulders rose as he inhaled. He turned around.

“They’re my parents,” Ren said.

Akechi looked away.

Yu understood at once, but Yosuke didn’t.

“What? Wait, _what_? Did they not see you or something? Hey!” Yosuke called, raising his voice at their distant backs. “Hey, y—”

“Yosuke,” Yu said, grabbing his arm. “Uh-uh.”

“Wh—” Yosuke’s expression clouded, and then cleared, and his jaw dropped. “Oh. Oh, shit. Did they ignore you on _purpose_?”

“Seems that way,” Ren muttered, putting his hands in his pockets, curling slightly in on himself.

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they don’t like me,” Akechi sneered. It was an ugly look, full of hurt. “Or rather, they don’t like what I represent. For the record, they don’t like you two, either.”

“What?” Yosuke exclaimed. “Why not?”

“Yosuke,” said Yu. “We’re gay.”

Yosuke sputtered. “ _So_? That’s none of their business!” After a second, he deflated. “ _Oh_. Aw, man…”

Ren reached up as if to adjust a pair of glasses that weren’t there, and settled for pushing his bangs out of his eyes instead. He was never very expressive at the best of times, and now was no exception, but if you knew the tells—and Yu, who saw everything, did—he was obviously stunned, and stung. Whatever his relationship with his parents had been, he had not expected this.

“Parents are tough,” Yu said.

“Oh man, totally,” Yosuke said eagerly. “Like, my parents—well, they’re actually pretty okay. I mean, I hated them in high school because they moved us here, but it turned out here was better than where we were, so we’re good now. It’s chill. But uh, you know, I know some parents are—not good, and not chill. And that’s tough.”

“My parents are dead,” said Akechi.

Yosuke goggled at him, recovered admirably. “That’s—yep, that’s, uh, that’s pretty much the spectrum! You’ve got good, bad, and then…dead. I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. Somebody get me out of here.”

“Beef bowls!” Morgana cried, leaping to the ground.

“Beef bowls!” Yosuke agreed, pumping his fist. “Let’s go!”

They marched off. Akechi, falling into step behind them, caught Yu’s eye, passed him the baton. Yu dropped back to walk alongside Ren, who was hunched and quiet.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ren murmured.

“Do what?”

Ren shot him a smirk. “The Wild Card thing.”

“I’ve been doing ‘the Wild Card thing’ longer than you, kohai,” Yu said. “Watch and learn.”

Ren’s smirk flickered briefly into a smile, and then faded.

“I’m sorry about them,” he said. “I’m their son, they can treat me however they want, but the rest of you…that was wrong.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Yu made a soft sound of assent. “Are you guys not talking at all, then?”

“We talk,” Ren said, stooping to pick up a discarded wrapper. “They call Akechi my roommate, and ignore me when I correct them. If I try to tell them about him, they ignore that too. It’s like they can’t hear me.”

“Or they don’t want to.”

“Yeah.” They passed a trash bin; Ren tossed the wrapper inside. “I haven’t visited in a while. I didn’t know they were going to pretend I didn’t exist. And if I confront them about it, they’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Still. If it upsets you, you should let them know.”

“I wish I thought that would help.”

They continued on in silence for a moment. Then, Ren said, “How did your parents take it, when you told them?”

Yu lifted one shoulder. “They took it fine. I think they always suspected it was coming. But it’s not a fair comparison. They grew up in Tokyo, they’ve lived all over the world…they’ve seen a lot more than your parents probably have, here in Inaba. They’re open to being surprised.”

“I thought my parents were too, is the thing,” Ren said, the shadow of an edge creeping into his voice. “They stuck by me through so much shit. Shido, and having to move to Tokyo, and faking my death and...they don’t even know Akechi, or our history. It’s not about him as a person, it’s about him as a _man_. I never thought they were like that. I never thought this would be the thing that set them off.”

“They’re probably scared. Doesn’t make it okay. But fear messes people up.”

Ren shook his head. “All my life, they’ve told me that I should try to do the right thing. ‘Whatever else you do, always do the right thing.’ The most basic ‘right thing’ they could do now is be happy for me, and they can’t. They won’t.”

“What’re you gonna do, then?”

Ren lifted his head, studied Akechi’s back.

“Go and see them, I guess,” he said. “Try to make them understand.”

Yu ruffled his hair. “If anyone can get through to them, you can.”

“Thanks,” Ren replied, reaching up to smooth his hair where Yu had touched it. It looked exactly the same, but he seemed satisfied.

“Here it is!” Yosuke announced, spreading his arms to encompass the warm glow emanating from Aiya’s windows. “The best food in Japan! C’mon, let’s get a table.”

Yu followed Yosuke inside. Ren knelt to let Morgana climb back into his bag.

“You okay?” Morgana asked, peering at him.

“I’m okay.”

He swung the bag over his shoulder, straightened up, found himself face to face with Akechi.

“Are you really?” Akechi asked.

Ren took a deep breath. “I will be. I’ll go see them tomorrow. If I talk to them in person, I’m sure I can make them understand.”

Akechi wrinkled his nose, dubious. “I could come with you, if you think it’d help.”

“No, not yet. I think it needs to be the three of us. But thanks.”

“All right.” Akechi nudged the door open. “After you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my fucking god. shido's fucking dead (good. riddance.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[But maybe it's a question of how much you'd really want](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HaVNBEYVyw) _
> 
> _[Have you had enough?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HaVNBEYVyw) _

Talking to his parents was easier said than done.

Which was weird, because up to now, Ren had always been able to talk to his parents. As a kid, as a pre-teen, as a teenager, he’d gone to them for advice all the time, and they’d freely given it. They’d said he could tell them anything, and he’d believed them. They’d said they’d support him through anything, and he’d believed that too. And, up to a point, they had: he’d put them through a lot, and they’d never wavered before.

One of Ren’s most vivid memories of the night Shido had gotten him arrested was leaving the police station with his parents. They were quiet on the way out to the car, Ren because he didn’t trust himself to open his mouth without being sick. His mother had opened the back door for him, touched his shoulder as he slumped into the backseat.

“Ren,” his mother had said, peering at him. “What really happened?”

Ren’s father dropped into the driver’s seat and turned to survey his son, thoughtful, intent.

“It’s like I said,” Ren said. His tongue felt too big for his mouth. “He was going to hurt that woman. She asked me for help. I grabbed him, and he fell.”

“That’s the truth?”

He met her gaze. “That’s the truth.”

His mother smiled, soft and sad. His father reached back to clasp his shoulder.

“You did the right thing,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out.”

Ren didn’t know where those people had gone, but he missed them. They’d become strangers to him, and getting stranger, ever since he’d moved in with Akechi. No—before that. He’d waited a long time to tell them about Akechi; not until a year into their relationship, when Akechi had suddenly looked up one night and said, “I don’t know much about your family, do I?” He’d wanted to meet them, wanted to know them. Ren had thought it was a good idea.

Except that when he said, “I’ve met someone,” and followed it up with, “His name’s Goro Akechi,” he’d been met with silence.

“Hello?” he’d said. “Did I lose you?”

“We’re here,” said his father. “We’re just confused. When you said you _met_ someone, we thought you meant, you know—a girl.”

“A romantic relationship,” his mother supplied.

“I did,” Ren said. “I did mean a romantic relationship. We’re together.”

More silence. Ren had filled it with the details he thought they needed: they’d been dating about a year; Akechi was a second-year at Tokyo Metropolitan University; he was working part-time with Naoto Shirogane, the detective; he had recently read that book Ren’s father had mentioned, and liked it. Ren thought they’d like him too.

Ren’s first inkling that something was really, really wrong was the way his mother said, “Well. We’re glad you’ve made such a good friend.”

Now, standing on his parents’ front porch, Ren swallowed his heart and rang the bell.

It took a while. Ren imagined his mother, Otome, making her way across the house, steady and measured. She never hurried, Otome Amamiya; almost no one was worth running for, she’d told him once. Nowadays Ren was inclined to disagree, for a few reasons. If she’d give him the chance to disagree, or acknowledge his point once he made it.

Sure enough, the door opened to reveal his mother, first blinking, and then lighting up as she smiled. “Ren! I didn’t know you were in Inaba!”

Strike one. “Yes you did,” he said, accepting her hug. “I texted you.”

“Tch! You know I never look at my phone. Come in. Have you eaten lunch? I was about to start cooking. Take off your shoes,” she added, turning away. “Come and sit.”

“Ma,” Ren said. “Is Pop here?”

“Ah, of course. Kai-kun!” she called up the stairs. “Kai!”

Somewhere in the distance, there was a shout of acknowledgement.

“Your son’s here! Come downstairs!”

Another acknowledgement.

“There,” Otome said. “He’ll be right down. Please take off your shoes.”

Ren weighed his options, and took off his shoes. “I’m not staying long.”

She looked almost comically surprised by this. “What? Why not?”

“I want to talk to you both about what happened last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yes.”

“What happened last night?”

“Outside of Shiroku? You took one look at me and practically ran away.”

Otome’s eyes widened. “Outside of…we didn’t see you outside of Shiroku.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I’m sure we didn’t.”

“I was there,” Ren said, rocking his hips to one side, “with Akechi, Yu, and Yosuke.”

Otome’s expression flickered, like a storm shutter closing. She drew herself up, squared her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I remember seeing Hanamura-san and Narukami-san, but I didn’t see you. It was dark.”

“You saw me. But you didn’t like who you saw me _with_ , so you ignored me.”

“That’s quite an accusation.”

“Not an accusation,” Ren said, “just a fact.”

“What on earth makes you think I would overlook you on purpose?”

“Pop,” Ren said, raising his voice. “Are you coming down?”

“Please don’t shout in the house.”

“I’m not shouting. Pop!”

“What is all the yelling about?” Kai Amamiya asked, finally emerging at the top of the stairs. “Ren, hello! I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Apparently we saw him last night,” said Otome, “and ignored him.”

“Did we?” Kai raised his eyebrows. “I feel like I’d remember that.”

“If you were here yesterday,” Otome added sharply, “why didn’t you come to see us until today?”

“I told you,” Ren replied, feeling his hands start to clench in his pockets. “I wanted to spend some time with Akechi. He’s been here for weeks.”

“Akechi,” Kai tutted, coming downstairs. “I know you two are close, but you should be careful. You wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression.”

“Especially if you’re wandering around town with Narukami-san,” Otome said. “People will talk.”

“I don’t care what _people_ say.”

“Rumors like that could make things very difficult for you.”

Strike two. Ren bit down hard on his knee-jerk reply, and said instead, “First of all, it wouldn’t be a rumor. Akechi and I are together. Second of all, they’d have to come to Tokyo to cause me any problems. And third—”

Kai shook his head. “Careful, there. Burning bridges seems easy when you’re young, but you never know where life will take you. You might want to come back to Inaba someday. It would help if you had friends here.”

“I do. Yu, and Yosuke, and—”

“Respectable friends,” Otome said gently.

“ _Respectable_ ,” Ren scoffed, the word thick and bitter as tar. “Since when do you care about being respectable?”

“We’ve always—”

“No. You used to care about justice. About doing what was right.”

“We still care about that,” Kai said. “But it’s easier to do that when you have allies.”

“I have allies.”

“Allies who can help you when you need it, not alienate everyone around you.”

A hammer started to pound inside Ren’s temple. “My friends,” he said, low and deliberate, “do not alienate everyone around me.”

“Maybe not now,” Otome said. “You’re still young, and so are they. But as you get older, you’ll find that the world looks less kindly on outcasts and renegades. People like Hanamura-san and Narukami-san will only hold you back in the long run.”

“We’re not saying you have to throw them over,” Kai added. “But you need to think about how often you’re seen with them.”

“And you need to think, long and hard, about your friendship with this boy,” Otome said. “Akechi. I’m sure he’s very nice, but don’t confuse affection for lo—”

“I’m not confused,” Ren snapped. His head hadn’t hurt this badly since he’d awakened to Arsene; for a wild moment he wondered if that was what was happening, if he was stuck inside a Palace and these two ghoulish people were only Shadows sent to torment him, to tear a new Persona from his skull. “I love Akechi. I don’t know why you don’t believe—”

“You have to be realistic.”

“I am!”

“Calm down,” Kai chided.

“What is _wrong_ with you?” Ren exploded. “I’ve found someone I care about! Who makes me happy! Who wants to meet you, because he knows I care about you too and he wants to share that, but you can’t even admit that he exists! Talk about ‘doing the right thing;’ the right thing would be for you to support me—”

“It would not,” Kai retorted. He was only an inch or two taller than Ren, but suddenly he loomed. “It would not be right.”

“ _Why not_?”

“Do you realize how much more difficult your life will be if you stick to this path?” Kai demanded. “How much danger you’re putting yourself in every time you go out in public with that man? Of course not. You’ve never given a moment’s thought to your own well-being.” Ren bristled, opened his mouth, but Kai overrode him. “Well, if your own future doesn’t matter to you, then what about ours?”

Ren choked, spluttered. “What _about_ yours?”

“We live here,” Kai said, sweeping his hand through the air. “How do you think it reflects on us for our son to take up with another man? To run off to Tokyo to be with him?”

“I didn’t go to Tokyo to be with him; I went because—”

“It doesn’t matter! That’s the story. Ren Amamiya, corrupted by the city, seduced by a pretty boy.” Ren’s jaw dropped; Kai held up his hand to forestall a response. “You don’t have to endure the whispers. You aren’t here.”

“Since when,” Ren breathed, “ _since_ _when_ do you listen to—”

“And if that wasn’t bad enough,” Otome put in, crossing her arms, half-turning away as if she couldn’t bear to face him, “you come here and flaunt it. Hanamura-san, Narukami-san—they get away with it because they have connections. We can’t protect you the way they’re protected.”

“And Dojima-san,” Kai said, “doesn’t have to hear about it because Narukami isn’t his son.”

“So what?” Ren exclaimed. “Anybody who’d give you grief over the way I’m living my life isn’t worth associating with!”

“It’s not that simple. We have to see these people. We have to interact with them.”

“So interact with them! If they want to be assholes—”

“Don’t curse,” Otome said.

“—then let them! What’s the worst they can do to you? And why, _why_ do you care?” Ren dragged both hands through his hair. “I can’t believe—all my life, you never—why now?”

“I told you,” his mother said. “We can’t protect you anymore. We need you to understand that your actions have consequences.”

Ren burst out laughing.

“My actions,” he said, covering his mouth. He sounded insane; he felt insane, a little. He could not believe what he was hearing. He could not believe these people were the ones who had raised him, who had made him what he was, who he’d apparently never known at all. “Oh my god. You have no idea. Consequences! You have _no idea_.”

Otome stared at him, appalled. Kai pursed his lips.

“It may seem easy to blend in in a place like Tokyo,” Kai said, “but your reputation follows you everywhere. The people you associate with affect that reputation. Some of your friends seem well-positioned to help you get ahead—Makoto Niijima, for example—but others…”

Ren laughed again, rough. “I see. You’re gonna tear everybody down now, huh?”

“I’m not tearing them down. I’m trying to help you see them as they really are.”

“I know it can be painful to think this way,” Otome said, almost pleading. “It seems callous, but it’s necessary. Friends are one thing; people will forgive strange friendships. But lovers—the people you dedicate your life to—they define how the world sees you. If you and Akechi carry on like this…what does he have to offer you?” A flush crept up Ren’s neck. “He was a celebrity, but that’s over now; he’s an orphan; he has no family at all—how can he support you? You want to be a counselor. There’s no money in that. What is he going to do with his life? What kind of a future can you hope to have together?”

Relief dawned, bright and cold, in Ren’s chest.

“I don’t have to listen to this,” he said, grabbing his shoes. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say.”

“Don’t run off in a huff,” Otome scolded. “We’re having a discussion.”

“ _No_ ,” Ren snarled, rounding on her. She recoiled. “You’re insulting me and everyone I love. That’s not a discussion. It’s _cruel_.”

“It’s the truth,” Kai said.

“It’s not. I don’t know who you are anymore. Don’t call me,” Ren said, jerking open the door. “We’re done.”

“Ren,” his mother said.

“Wait,” said his father.

Ren slammed the door behind him.

***

Akechi had lost track of how many times he’d checked his phone.

He was supposed to be working. His laptop was open, his papers spread across the chabudai, but he’d been staring at a flickering cursor for the last—he checked his phone again—hour and ten minutes. Thinking. Brooding.

“I hate these people,” he said, not for the first time.

“I know,” Morgana hissed. He was perched on the windowsill, keeping watch. “They’re the worst.”

“I don’t know why Ren cares so much about their opinion,” Akechi muttered, flipping blindly through a stack of notes. “It’s not like it matters. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Morgana said, lashing his tail. “But he loves them, and he wants—”

“—them to understand. I know,” Akechi replied. “I was speaking rhetorically.”

His phone buzzed. He grabbed it, sighed. Just a text from Ann: _Is he back yet???????_

 **Akechi** No.

 **Ann** ARGH  
**Ann** The suspense is KILLING ME.  
**Ann** Is it good or bad that it’s taking so long??

“How can he even be surprised?” Akechi said. “He, of all people, should know how completely parents can let you down.”

“He says they haven’t before, though. He says—”

“—they were always there for him, he trusted them, I _know_.” Akechi frowned at Ann’s last message. “I wish I knew how to help him.”

“Me too,” Morgana sighed. “He’s helped all of us so much, and now…” Then his ears perked. He spun around. “Hey! I have an idea!”

Akechi blinked. “What?”

“We could steal their hearts!”

“…what?”

“If you could find a way into the Velvet Room,” Morgana said, kneading his claws against the windowsill, “you could ask Igor for the Meta-Nav back, and then we could go into Mementos and—”

“I don’t think Ren would like that.”

“He doesn’t have to know!”

Akechi gave him a look. “You think he wouldn’t be able to tell? _How_ many hearts did you all steal?”

Morgana deflated, plopped back down. “I guess you’re right.”

Akechi slumped against the couch, glared at his laptop.

“Ooh, maybe I could do something,” Morgana said, perking up again. “I could…sneak in and break all their dishes! Or…go over there tonight and…and…meow really loud outside their window while they’re trying to sleep!”

“Now _that_ is a good idea,” said Akechi. “I’ll text Futaba and see if she can find their address.”

Morgana purred. “The Phantom Thieves ride again!”

As he spoke, the front door opened, and Ren came inside. “The Phantom Thieves what?” he asked, kicking off his shoes.

“You’re back!” Morgana exclaimed, vaulting across the room, twining himself around Ren’s shins. “How’d it go?”

“Terrible,” Ren said.

Akechi, getting to his feet, felt a pang. “What did they say?”

Ren scratched the back of his head. He wouldn’t look at Morgana, or at Akechi; his mouth was tight, his chin tipped low so that his hair fell across his eyes. “Plenty,” he said, a little hoarsely. “Turns out it’s not just you they object to. It’s everyone.”

“What?” Morgana said, lowering his tail.

“They don’t think I’m associating with _respectable_ people.” Ren snorted, lips curling into a reasonable facsimile of a smile. “People who can _help me get ahead_. People who can _define my future_ in ways that—”

Akechi had crossed the room to him before he realized he was moving. He put his hand to Ren’s jaw, turned his head so he could see his face, and felt a hot, sick swoop of anger. Ren wasn’t crying now, but he had been; probably, if the tension in his shoulders was any indication, more out of frustration than sorrow. Still: he’d been crying.

“Fuck them,” Akechi breathed. “They can go straight to hell.”

Ren grimaced, pulled away. Morgana looked from him to Akechi and back.

“Do you guys need some privacy?”

“Yes,” said Akechi, and “No,” said Ren. They looked at each other, Akechi fierce, Ren wry.

“That’s fine,” said Morgana, putting his nose in the air. “I have scouting to do, anyway.”

“Scouting?” Ren said.

The cat winked at him over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

And he was gone, trotting out into the sunshine. Akechi closed the door behind him, turned around, frowned at Ren. Ren tried to shrug, tried to muster some of his usual bravado, but the shadows beneath his eyes were too deep, his pupils too dark. He was clearly, visibly exhausted.

“Where are Yu and Yosuke?” he asked.

“Out,” Akechi replied, gesturing toward the couch. “Sit down. Tell me what happened.”

Ren folded himself onto a cushion, rested his elbows on his knees. “Not much to tell. I yelled at them, they told me to stop yelling, I left.”

So they hadn’t thrown him out. That was something, at least. Akechi sat beside him. “Did they even try to explain themselves?”

Ren huffed a laugh, rubbed his forehead. “They said they’re…worried about me, I guess. They said they can’t protect me from what other people think anymore, so they have to make me understand what I’m getting myself into. With you, but also with everyone else. All the ways I’m making my life difficult by hanging out with unsavory people.”

Akechi opened his mouth to protest, and stopped.

He…could understand that.

“I suppose they’re not _wrong_ ,” he admitted, grudgingly. “I’ve been trying to tell you something similar for years.”

If Ren heard him, he gave no sign. “They tried to tell me I was confused,” he added, voice catching, “about you. That I don’t really love you, and you’re just a friend. But that’s not—that’s not—”

Akechi’s throat constricted. “I know.”

“It took us _so long_ to get here,” Ren exclaimed, fisting his hand in his hair. “For me to convince you that I—and for them to just dismiss it like it was easy, like it doesn’t mean anything—”

“I could go and talk to them,” Akechi said. “I could explain.”

“They wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise. And if they did, they’d smile and nod and then go back to pretending you’re not real.”

“I could be charming,” Akechi said. He tilted his head, widened his eyes, quirked his mouth in a tiny smile. It had never been a good mask, and it fit even more poorly now, but it might have been enough to fool these idiots, who couldn’t accept the truth of what their son was telling them. “How could they resist the Detective Prince?”

If they’d been in the Metaverse, Ren probably would have burst into flames. As it was, he whipped around, incandescent with rage, and seized Akechi’s shoulders. “Stop it. _Stop it_.”

Akechi laughed, letting the mask fall away. “I wouldn’t mind,” he said, touching Ren’s wrists. “If they liked me that way, I wouldn’t mind—”

“ _I’d mind_ ,” Ren growled, almost shaking him. “I’m not putting you in a cage to make them feel better. If they don’t want to know you exactly the way you are, they’re not worth it.”

“They’re your parents.”

“So what?”

“So you love them,” Akechi said. “Don’t you?”

“I love _you_.”

“And the others. I know. But you _also_ love _them_. Are you sure you want to throw them away for us?”

“I’m not throwing them away,” Ren retorted, eyes overbright. “I’m—cutting my losses.”

God, they really _had_ hurt him. Akechi hadn’t spent the last two years in therapy for nothing. In every other one of Ren’s relationships, including theirs, Ren was the (self-appointed) bastion of strength. His parents were perhaps the only people he’d ever let himself rely on unconditionally. His single point of unwavering support. For _them_ to betray him, to dismiss his feelings, was catastrophic. And Ren knew only one way out of catastrophe: through. If they wouldn’t come with him, he would leave them behind, even if it meant cutting away a piece of his heart.

Akechi really, really hated these people. It had been a while since he’d loathed anyone so deeply, and so righteously. But he put it aside for the moment. He could examine it, really savor it, later. Right now, Ren needed him.

“Cutting your losses?” Akechi said, raising his eyebrows. “Please. As if you even know what that means.”

“I—”

“They’re acting like this because they love you, and they’re scared of seeing you get hurt,” Akechi said briskly. “You know that.” Ren looked away. “I don’t like it, but I understand it.”

“It doesn’t matter why. It—they—”

Akechi ran his fingers through Ren’s hair, cupped the back of his head. “Ren.”

“How can they ask me to give this up?” Ren whispered, shuddering. “How can they—if they could just _see_ —”

Akechi kissed his forehead, his cheek, his mouth, tasting salt, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. Ren pressed his face into Akechi’s chest, and Akechi put his arms around him, holding him fast against the waves of frustration and despair.

Once it was over, Ren let out a shaky sigh and pitched his weight forward. Akechi let himself be pinned to the couch, reaching up to brush his sleeve across Ren’s damp cheeks.

“You’ve gotten pretty good at that,” Ren murmured. “Hugging.”

“I have a skilled teacher.”

“I missed you so much.” Ren rested his forehead against Akechi’s. “You’re not allowed to travel without me anymore. I forbid it.”

“Hmm. Despite appearances, I don’t usually spend much of my time cuddling on the couch. You’d get bored.”

“I could entertain myself.”

“Nonsense. You’d badger me constantly.”

“I’m very self-sufficient. Ask Morgana.”

“Maybe you used to be, in high school, but now you’re hopeless.”

Ren kissed him, finally, and Akechi hummed with satisfaction, arching into him. It had taken a while for Ren to bring Akechi around to the idea of making out without going anywhere, but he was all for it now: for relishing the heat of their mouths and the friction of their tongues, for slowly, casually exploring each other as if their bodies held any sort of surprise after all this time. Ren pushed Akechi’s shirt up to spread his fingers across his abdomen, to thumb his nipple, biting his lower lip when he gasped. Akechi fitted one hand into the crook of Ren’s jaw, stroking his skin, massaging circles into his lower back. There was nothing sexual in it. It was pure comfort, reacquainting themselves with the shape of each other.

Eventually Ren settled across him, solid, reassuring, and nuzzled his nose into Akechi’s neck.

“What did Morgana mean earlier?” he asked. “What is he ‘scouting’?”

“Hmph! Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“Oh, that’s not suspicious at all. What are you two planning?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re out of practice. Your poker face is terrible.”

“We’re not playing poker.”

Ren kissed him again, and this time there was heat in it. Akechi curled his fingers into Ren’s shirt. When Ren moved down to kiss his throat, his collarbone, Akechi said, “We should go upstairs.”

“In a minute.” Ren licked Akechi’s sternum.

Akechi growled. “ _Ren_.”

Ren leaned over him again. Akechi tried to surge up to meet him, to capture his mouth, but Ren drew back just out of reach. “I love you,” he said, slipping his hand underneath Akechi’s head, cradling it.

“I love you too,” Akechi said, and bucked his hips. “ _Upstairs_. Hurry up, before Morgana gets back.”

Ren smiled, and clambered off of him, and led the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was really important to me to be clear, here: Otome and Kai are coming from a place of understandable fear. they're wrong to make Ren responsible for it, though.


End file.
